


Fated

by makesometime



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Cipher Watcher, F/M, Just the most schmoopy lovin, Past Lives, Schmoop, Soulmates, vague mentions of pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 03:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14370186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: But Edér would know. He always knows.“Do you believe in fate?” Elsa asks before she can lose her nerve, the question quiet, thoughtful. Her fingers trace through the light dusting of hair on his chest. She cannot meet his eyes.





	Fated

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently these two have more to say. Another unexpected moment in the lives of my Watcher and Edér, the schmoopy messes in love.

It's been months since Elsa saw a soul unwillingly. In dreams, sometimes, that purple haze takes its way over her vision but it's only a pantomime of the real thing, a half-remembered impression of what it was truly like.  
  
She knows she could still manipulate them, if the mood took her. While she's never wished to use her abilities for ill, sometimes the itch still rises regardless, a voice whispering at the edge of her consciousness. Mostly in difficult negotiations, boring meetings. She could twist their spirit, make them just… give up and _go away_.   
  
Asleep, or close to it, Elsa senses souls with far less effort than she used to. She first notices it with her own, admiring the faint green glow that surrounds her fingers if she waggles them in front of her face in near-darkness. It's hardly a bother - if anything it acts as a reassurance that her powers still remain, dormant, waiting despite lack of use.  
  
It’s a different matter entirely when her lover shares her bed.  
  
Edér, his arms around her middle as he hums and noses the back of her shoulder, has a far more encompassing glow about him. It's warm, yellow, like sunshine on a summer's day. It's natural and welcoming and as easy to fall into as his embrace. Elsa notes, faintly, how it melds with her own in hazy companionship as she drifts, drifts, allows dreams to come…  
  
 _She's a nurse, working out of a small home in a nameless village. It feels good to help. To know she's making a difference. Her husband has Meadow folk colouring but dark hair, golden eyes, a lithe body from working the fields all day. When he returns home, they cook and clean together, tell each other of their days.  
  
T_ _hey make love. They rest easy in each other's arms.  
  
_ And with a flash she is somewhere new.  
  
 _She finds herself in the body of a man, of noble birth and impressive stature. Her answering golden soul is found this time in the Captain of the Guard. It aches, to look at him. To know without justification that they should be together. To be unable to act. She marries a wonderful woman, but it does not work as it should. Their souls do not match.  
  
_ _There is forever a part of her missing.  
  
_ Elsa stirs with a heavy heart. The disappointed ache of her former self lingers in her gut, heightened by the lack of Edér’s touch. She rolls over to find him resting easy on his back, covers tangled low around his hips.  
  
Soothed once more by the light of his soul, she fades back into sleep…  
  
 _She gasps and quickly swallows a moan, clutching at the back of his head and tugging the curtain more firmly around them. The stone of the alcove is cold against her back. She can feel his lips quirk in amusement against her inner thigh and then he’s back, tasting her, the sounds of his greedy devouring barely muffled by her skirts.  
  
_ _She's just about to break when the curtain is yanked open--  
  
_ The flush on her cheeks is as real as it was in the memory when Elsa’s eyes open. It’s been longer since her last awakening than the apparent swiftness of her dream suggests. The night's bright clearness has been replaced by a burgeoning sunrise. There's movement out in the courtyard, traders setting up for the day, but she doesn't see fit to join them. It's too early.  
  
And if she's entirely honest, she has an undeniable hunger to explore the possibility of more lifetimes, to find more happy experiences in case this is her only chance to enjoy them.  
  
 _Her husband is a soldier. He's been gone for months when the door opens, a shadow falling across the bathtub as she bathes their child. She stands, and her love moves out of the sunlight, still golden as he moves into her vision. His eyes are wide at the copious swell of her belly as she picks their son out of the water, sets him on her hip.  
  
_ _He holds them both with a ferocity that makes her heart skip a beat. They were close to never having this moment again.  
  
_ It's this notion, familiar and different all at once, that lingers with her when she opens her eyes. She’s determined now not to rest again, fears what might appear to her next. It would surely ruin the completeness of this feeling.  
  
Elsa doesn't know what it is to be pregnant. Truth told, she hasn't ever considered it. She's lain carefree with Edér enough times now that it would surely have happened by now if it was ever likely to in the first place.  
  
Yet… to carry his child…  
  
She shivers at the thought so violently that it wakes her lover, Edér’s eyes sharply opening as his nostrils flare and he looks around for her with curious eyes. Elsa smiles, blinks slowly and can see the tension bleed out of him, the sharp peak of his soul’s energy fading with his increased alertness.  
  
He reaches for her and she moves without hesitation, settling her weight over his stomach.  
  
“G’morning.”  
  
Edér speaks through a yawn, not bothering to muster the manners to hide it. She rolls her eyes and tuts, but his guilt is non-existent. This is what she lives for, now. Her lover and all his quirks, melding his life with hers under no obligation. The world is no longer about to end and they have served their time.  
  
What she didn’t realise is that this is all part of a pattern, threads of lives throughout history culminating to this one point. It almost makes her feel dizzy, weightless and burdened all at once. The weak temptation is to not mention it, to conceal the visions of her dreaming self. But Edér would know. He always knows.  
  
“Do you believe in fate?” Elsa asks before she can lose her nerve, the question quiet, thoughtful. Her fingers trace through the light dusting of hair on his chest. She cannot meet his eyes.  
  
Edér is silent in turn, his thumbs rubbing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Given everything that's happened with his God, her own long-ago lapsed faith… she can't claim to have the tools to anticipate his response.  
  
“I do.”  
  
It flashes back to her then, _the weight of a babe in her arms another growing in her belly_ \-- She jolts, leaning forward, both hands firm against his chest.   
  
“I think…” She loses her confidence, chews at her lip until he gives an enquiring grunt, squeezes her legs. “I see something, in your soul. In my own.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
She could so easily be losing him with this. It's still early and by rights they should both be asleep. But Edér is focused in a way that she rarely sees. Face solemn, attention undivided. No trace of humour on his face.  
  
“I think, perhaps. We were meant to find each other. In this life.” She takes a deep breath, blowing it out through her lips slowly. “Possibly in all lives.”  
  
He starts to shift into a seated position, at this revelation. Elsa lifts up onto her knees so that he can lean back into the headboard, then moves with him when his hands reach for her own. “What makes you say that?”  
  
He's not laughing at her, not casting doubt on her serious tone. If she gets nothing else from this, that means a lot.  
  
“I had these dreams, for the first time since Thaos. They were so _clear_. Memories, rather than fiction.” She passes her thumb over his knuckles, looking down at their joined hands. “I recognised myself in every person I believe shares my soul. And always. _Always._ You were there as well.”  
  
A momentary flicker of some secret emotion shows in his eyes. Her Edér, so steadfast, so devoted. Prone to flights of fancy he may be, but she worries this might be a step too far.  
  
“Are these… _happy_ dreams?” He looks so hopeful in the moment that she can't stop herself leaning in, resting her head on his shoulder. She drums her fingers over his heart, wondering how much to tell him.   
  
“Sometimes, yes. Sometimes… No, sometimes they're not happy at all. We're not together in those. As if something went wrong in the Wheel.”  
  
He hums, a deep sound that vibrates through his chest and into her body. He remains silent as he turns the idea over in his head and she doesn’t push him for an opinion. Patience is a talent she’s been working on building.  
  
Having said that… there’s patience, and then there’s _patience_ and Edér is quiet enough for long enough that she halfway fears he’s gone back to sleep.  
  
“Do you believe me?” She asks, cursing the uneven tone to her voice.  
  
His hand tangles in her hair, strong fingers stroking the back of her head. It makes her purr, her nose tucking against his throat. “Far as I see it, there’s no reason not to. You're the expert.”  
  
She smiles and closes her eyes, enjoying the continued play of his touch over her scalp. Of course he believes her. Why did she doubt?  
  
“Tell me about us, huh?”  
  
Pushing away from him, Elsa cups his face in her hands gently. She presses a kiss to his forehead, his nose, the rise of both cheeks. “What do you want to know?”  
  
He wears the amused twinkle in his eye completely unabashed, winking at her. “Anything… _saucy_?”   
  
Elsa hums, brushing her mouth over his finally, holding him still as she flicks her tongue over the swell of his lower lip. “You mean like the time we got caught with your head under my skirts?”  
  
Edér groans and smiles, shifting beneath her. He flexes his legs, pulling them up to rest his feet on the mattress so that she slips forward, higher across his lap. Elsa leans back into his thighs, ignoring the sudden urge to kiss him, to lose herself in the heat of his mouth. She knows he favours a smutty story as much as anyone, so it's only right to give him one.  
  
“We’d snuck away.” She murmurs, toying with one of her nipples, gasping softly when Edér’s warm palm encompasses her other breast, kneading the flesh eagerly. “Some stuffy gathering. I don’t think we were supposed to be alone together.”  
  
She'd like to claim to have every intention of teasing him. Of rocking against him until he begs for her to ride him. But that half-hearted notion is abandoned as soon as she feels his eager cock pressing along her folds. Edér bats her hand away from her chest and cups both breasts while her hips move, slow and lazy, urging him continue to thicken.  
  
Elsa whines as the tip of his cock nudges her clit, the stimulation sending unexpected shivers down her spine. The next words tumble from her lips, any intentions of a carefully constructed tale flying from her head. “When we got caught, you didn't stop until I was bucking into your mouth…”  
  
Edér chokes out a laugh, his hips jerking. The thought of undoing her in front of someone else apparently does as much for him as it does for her. Reaching down awkwardly past his arms, she takes his length in hand and holds him so that she can settle him at her entrance.  
  
She adores the look in his eyes when he feels her stretch open to accept him. It’s like the first time every time, the slow push inside her body, the way his brow pinches and his mouth falls open. She gives a soft cry, her head falling back when he fills her completely. It's always a moment to savour.  
  
His hands settle on her hips and guide her into a gentle rhythm, her knees locking tight around him. She’ll never get enough of this. In any lifetime. Whatever chances she’s given with this man she will cherish. To do otherwise would be madness.  
  
Her pace grows more erratic as their arousal heightens, _need_ taking the place of mere _want._  She shares a smile with Edér as she twists her hips on an upstroke, drawing a groan from the man beneath her.  
  
Overcome, Elsa takes a chance. “In our other lives.” She murmurs, paused above him, before grinding down with a breathless shout. She fixes him with a gaze that's too serious for this moment. “Once I was heavy with child.”  
  
Edér gapes at her. A low growl catches in his throat as the image races around his mind. His palm slips further across her stomach, cupping her belly as his thumb skims her clit. She hadn’t dared hope--  
  
Elsa moans, pressing into his touch and clenching around him as she breaks, images of lives long passed filling her head. Edér follows swiftly after her, with a warm spill deep inside her that has an entirely different weight to it, now. She falls forward into his chest, hiding her face in his throat as they pant, shiver and groan together.  
  
She smiles, nipping at his jaw when he stops her from moving off of him without a word, just heavy hands holding her hips. She knows well enough that they likely won’t discuss the idea of children again. There’s too many consequences. Too many complications. But here, curled to his chest, with the thick heat of him still deep inside her body, they can pretend.  
  
For this turn of the Wheel, perhaps that’s all they really need.

**Author's Note:**

> This thing underwent a hundred rewrites, and could have undergone a hundred more. Sometimes you just have to say enough is enough. I truly hope you enjoyed!


End file.
